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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187967">old me.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/castawaypitch/pseuds/castawaypitch'>castawaypitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry On Countdown 2020 [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Feelings Realization, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Simon Snow, Parallel Universe, Simon meets his old self, Summoning versions of yourself from a parallel universe, Watford Eighth Year, summoning spells</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:48:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187967</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/castawaypitch/pseuds/castawaypitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Carry On Countdown Day 25: Parallel Universe.</p><p>Realizing your true feelings might be hard, maybe a little help from your old-self might be worth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Carry On Countdown 2020 [24]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Carry On Countdown 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>old me.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I pay attention to the class, as if I really understood Miss Possibelf's words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to invoke some version of us to help us with something? It doesn't make sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, since The Mage brought me to Watford, I've got used to things that don't make sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being at 8th year now, we're supposed to be able to make it work, just long enough for our other-me to be here for a couple days. I repeat the spell, focusing all my magic on my wand </span>
  <b>
    <em>"Shout out to the old me.”</em>
  </b>
  <span> Nothing happens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m afraid of what would it mean. Is it because I simply don't have a future? Isn't there a Simon who survives the Great War? Although Miss Possible said that even if most of the time the spell invokes an older version of ourselves, it can also call a younger version.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I take a look at the rest of the room, where everyone points their wands at their index fingers and repeats the spell, and I notice their expressions, from surprise to apathy and bewilderment; you're not supposed to be able to see the ghosts —entities? versions?— of someone else. So nobody has to know that my spell —what a weird thing— didn't work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thanks magic, the class finishes and I finally can run away before anyone realizes I was faking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I walk down the hall to my next class, and the quietness ends the second Penny takes her place next to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did you see?" she asks. I'm tempted to make something up, tell her that I saw a version of myself as a child, and that was with me for a couple of seconds before it vanished into thin air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she knows me well enough to notice when I'm lying. So I tell her the truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Penny keeps thinking, until she finally shrugs her shoulders, without any response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe we should investigate after class. Or you could try again later."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I try not to think about it for the rest of the class.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>At night I go back to my room too tired to deal with Baz and his insults, so for the love of the gods, I hope he's not there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, the room is not empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lying on my bed is </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>No, that's definitely not me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, the idea of it being The Humdrum crosses my mind. That, for some reason, it's no longer my 11-year-old look, and it's finally grown up. My hand goes straight to my hip, but before I could summon the Sword of Mages, the other me speaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"May I know why did you summon me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice —</span>
  <em>
    <span>my voice</span>
  </em>
  <span>— sounds deeper. There’s no way it’s The Humdrum: I can still feel my magic, the air isn’t dry nor itching</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, the spell worked. Of course not the way it was supposed to, but still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I was casting a spell. But you weren’t supposed to appear </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” My voice comes out trembling, still shocked to seeing an older version of me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>defeat the Humdrum, then? You look at least five years older.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other Simon stands, passing his hand by Baz’s bed while walking closer to me, finally sitting in my desk chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to tell you that, but if I’m here, there should be a good reason, shouldn’t it?” He grabs my arm, shaking it a little to make me react. I didn’t realize I was still frozen. “And I’m 24. How old are you? 17? 18?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“18” That’s what I think, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, if he’s not here to give me some advice about the future of the World of Mages, why, then?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, mini-me, this is very weird. So, what do you want to know? Maybe you’d ask some things I can give you the answer of, but I can’t promise anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of all the things I’ve trying to hard not to think about my future, I can’t choose just one. Considering that there’s an old version of, it’d mean I’ll survive, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How is Penny?</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>I’m married? With Agatha?</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Was Baz a confirmed vampire?</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Is he alive?</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Do I know anything about my parents?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I ask him them all. But, before I could get any answers, the door opens and my ghost disappear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just Baz. He doesn’t even bother to look at me while gets his pyjama clothes and goes to the en suite. I’m still confused, so I do the same thing, trying to change before he comes out of the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, a new question comes to my mind: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do you know what was the real reason Baz and I could never become friends?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I make a mental note of it, hoping to see my old-self once I’m alone again.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He happens to appear when I’m on my way to breakfast, joining me when I just went out of the Mummers. Last night he was wearing a white shirt, but now is wearing a shirt from the football team of the school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just stop for a few seconds, a bit scared for his sudden presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to answer the things I asked yesterday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walks by my side through the lawn, looking at me with a face of confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d mind repeat them? I forgot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, at the daylight, I’m not sure I want all the answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s Penny there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really happy, but not living with me anymore.” Knowing that she’ll be okay after all makes me happy; we’ll get that flat we always talk of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anymore</span>
  </em>
  <span>? She moved with Micah to America?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “She’s still in London. I’m the one who moved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, with Agatha? We get married?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We arrive to the dining hall, walking to the queue to get breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. There’s someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, she breaking up with me weeks ago don’t have a fix. Well, it’s weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he said someone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I already know her?” Old Simon laughs, shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to eat. I’ll see you later.” Then, as suddenly as he appeared, he’s gone now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pick up my food, finding Penny at our table already eating. I tell her that the spell worked, and that an older version of me is walking around here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But I don’t tell that we’ll make it out alive. She’ll discover it by her own.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Older Simon pops up again in my bedroom just when I’m coming out of a shower. I hold tight the towel around my waist, uncomfortable of someone else seeing me half naked, even if it’s just me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, would you care of giving me an advice every time you’re about to come out of nothing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugs, sitting on the corner of the window and looking away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As fast as I can, I change into my pyjama, talking to him once I’m done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you didn’t answer my last question.” He sighs, like he’s nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s when I look at his back, staring at his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you wearing a football shirt from Baz?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To be honest, I’m afraid of his answer, whatever it is. That probably Baz made it out alive like me, and we’re friends in the future, or that probably he died and everything I got from his was his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or perhaps…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Simon, please don’t freak out, okay? Is a bit hard to explain, but is probably the reason I’m here.” Seeing him ruffling his curls is so familiar, and old habit that my future version still does. But knowing that I only do that when I’m overthinking don’t give me hopes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just talk.” I’m absolutely freaking out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs my hand, making me sit on my bed, while he stays on the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After everything, things changed </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” What does he mean by </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>? “Baz and I, well, sorta got along. As weird as that might sound.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he alive?” The question comes out before I’d think it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. More alive than ever, I’d say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I inevitably sigh of relief. He gives me a small grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And, considering that I realized that things between Agatha and I were never real, I also discovered another thing about myself.” He looks away from me, hand on curls. “I’ve spent years in love with someone else, but I confused my true feelings with hate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. I mean. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. Why? Is he talking about…?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could say anything else, Baz enters into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hope to my future me to be gone, but he’s still here. Staring at Baz, a kind of gaze I never thought I’d had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization hits me hard in the stomach. All this time, he was talking about Baz. About </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>being in love with Baz. That’s why he is here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baz just grabs some books, and then leaves the room again. Only looking at me once, a cold gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way. Absolutely no fucking way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it makes sense for my constant obsession towards him, I refuse to believe I have feelings —</span>
  <em>
    <span>romantic feelings</span>
  </em>
  <span>— towards Baz. Baz, my vampire, evil and nightmare of roommate, who tried multiple times to kill me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But who is also a boy, as fucked of by fate as me. Who was pulled into a war without his permission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against all the reasons to despise him, I can’t really do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you ask me, I’d recommend you to go and look for your man.” Says older Simon, grinning and pointing at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I do. I run down the stairs, trying to reach him. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll find him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I’m about to arrive to the library, I see him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baz!” I shout. He turns back, looking for whoever who called him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I close the distance between us, until I’m like five feet apart from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, Snow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ask the same thing to myself. My body reacts before my brain, pulling him to my body, wrapping his body with my arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands cup his face, and after all these years, I let my face admire every single detail of him. His crooked nose, his sharp cheekbones covered by a light shade of pink, his rosy lips that are slightly parted, letting me see a small hint of his fangs. Every thing of him is fucking beautiful, I’ve just been and idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s looking at me with confusion, but not trying to break apart. I breathe close to his lips, waiting for his permission, and he just nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My lips reach his, and I’ve never imagined the soft feeling of kissing him. Everything makes sense, like a just solved puzzle inside me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kissing him doesn’t feel like fighting, it’s much better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When we break apart for air, I get to see two shapes a few meters behind. I try to focus, and I see my old self beside someone else. Someone taller, with black hair, whose arm is holding me by the waist. Baz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I try not to laugh, looking back at my real Baz. His eyes are still closed, but a little smile brightens his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How idiot I’ve been not to realize I’m in love with him.</span>
</p><p> </p>
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